


Of Heather Beer and Rubber Ducks

by woodelf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, and friends, cameo appearance by Floyd the Duck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Rushbelle fluff
Relationships: Belle (Once Upon a Time)/Nicholas Rush
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Of Heather Beer and Rubber Ducks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WorryinglyInnocent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/gifts).



“I see duckies,” Belle remarked happily. 

There was no doubt that Brody’s brews were improving. His latest effort was the result of the last planet they had visited, where a bleak, moor-like expanse had been covered in a low-growing shrub that looked remarkably like heather. 

“You can make beer out of heather,” Rush had observed, though he hadn’t had the faintest idea how. 

That hadn’t stopped Brody, who had acquired a recipe from Earth and a large quantity of the plant after TJ had confirmed that it was safe to gather. Although he’d lacked some of the usual ingredients, he’d made do with what they had, the hydroponics dome holding an ever increasing array of plants, and the end result had been surprisingly light and pleasant-tasting, a nice change from his usual rotgut.Rush remembered trying a heather ale once and not being impressed, but either Brody’s version was an improvement on the original, or his taste buds had grown a lot less picky aboard Destiny _. Belle_ had certainly liked it. Rush had suggested a trip to the more comfortable observation lounge when it had become obvious that she had had more than enough for one night, and while she could still walk under her own power, if a bit unsteadily.

“That’s nice,” said Rush indulgently, resting his chin atop her head as she leaned back against his chest. They were sitting sideways on one of the couches, Rush’s back against an armrest and one leg up on the cushions. “Just duckies, though? It’s usually pink elephants.”

“Duckies,” said Belle firmly. “There are two yellow ones, and two white ones, and one brown one.” She frowned. “Why is it brown?”

“Brown seems a fairly standard duck colour,” Rush hazarded.

“Not real ducks,” Belle clarified. “Rubber ducks. Like you put in your bath. One of the white ones has coloured polka dots; she’s very cheerful-looking. I’m not sure about the brown one, though. Oh, I know!” she decided happily. “Maybe it’s a chocolate duck!”

Rush chuckled. “Good thing he’s not really here, then. He wouldn’t last long.“

"But he has a family,” she pointed out with all seriousness. “I couldn’t eat someone who has a _family_.”

“What about the space grouse?” he asked, that name having been attached to the birds they’d found living on the moor. “You didn’t seem to mind eating them. I’m sure they had families.”

“Mmm, they were good, weren’t they?” she recalled, with all the fervour of one who has lived for too long on bowls of protein goop. “But I never _saw_ them with a family. The duckies are different.” She gazed out dreamily at the ribbons of FTL light sliding past the windows, feeling snug and secure in Rush’s embrace. “There, see?” she asked triumphantly, pointing.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to describe it to me.”

“One of the yellow duckies. He just put on a pair of sunglasses and opened up a laptop. Regular ducks don’t do that!”

“Can you see what he’s typing?” asked Rush, intrigued despite himself. 

Belle leaned forward a little, squinting. “It says ‘Hello, Belle!’” she exclaimed excitedly. “He knows my name!”

Rush half-wished he could see what she was seeing, entertained by the idea of a little yellow ducky tapping away at a computer with its wings. Or did it use its bill? “Does he have a name?”

Belle watched as more characters appeared on the screen. “He says his name is Floyd. Oh, here comes another one!”

“Another duck?”

“Yes, but this one is a duckicorn!”

“A _what_?”

“A duckicorn,” repeated Belle patiently. “It’s got a mane and a tail and a little horn spiraling out of its forehead.”

“Of course it does,” Rush agreed, not even surprised. Unicorns seemed to follow them throughout the galaxy. So far, besides discovering that Belle had a small tattoo of one, he’d met a small, fluffy white one and a large, extremely laid-back black one, considering what they had gotten up to while in its presence. Perhaps that was the reason for the discrepancy in the way early naturalists had described unicorns on Earth? Could unicorns from other worlds have come to Earth via stargates, and then died out, hunted to extinction? Or was it the other way around, and the hunted had fled to other worlds? He shook his head, bemused at himself. But he couldn’t deny the damn things _existed._ He was brought back to himself by Belle yawning and turning her head to rest her cheek on his chest, her eyelids drooping as she slid further down his body.

“Ready to go back to our quarters and call it a night?” He suggested, winding a lock of her hair about his fingers and giving it a gentle tug. 

“Comfy here,” she declared. 

“But wouldn’t it be nicer to wake up in your own bed, with a bathroom close at hand?” he coaxed. Not that he thought she’d had enough to be sick, but he suspected she was going to need to pee sooner rather than later. 

Belle opened her eyes fully with a frown. “Actually, now that you mention it…” She pushed herself off his chest and stood up with only a slight wobble. 

Rush grinned and stood as well. “You can lean on me.”

“I’m not drunk,” she protested. “But I will lean on you anyway, because I _like_ you,” she added grandly, slipping one hand into his and pressing close to his side. 

“i like you too.” Rush assured her, thinking that Belle really was adorable when she’d had too much to drink. He moved his hand to her lower back and guided her out into the corridor and in the direction of their quarters. They walked in silence until they reached their door, where Belle stopped and turned to face him. 

“if we ever get back to Earth,” she asked wistfully, “Will you take me to Scotland? Show me how the heather looks? I’ve seen the sea, but never a moor. Not an Earth one, at any rate.”

It was from a poem, he knew. “ _I’ve never seen the moor, I’ve never seen the sea, but know I how the heather looks and what a wave must be?_ ”

“Yes!” She beamed at him, like he’d done something particularly clever. “Well, not exactly, but close enough. And the poet?”

It was one of the women, he thought, one of the two whose names started with ‘E’ that he used to get mixed up. Either Emily Dickinson or – his mind blanked and he frowned. Who was the other one, the one who’d married another fellow writer? His mind stubbornly refusing to give up the name, he went with the one he had. “Dickinson?” he hazarded. 

“ _Very_ good!” She went up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, and Rush smirked. 

“I’ll show you the moor, and Glasgow, too,” he offered generously. “It’s a lot nicer now than when I was a lad.”

“I’d love that.” Smiling, she turned and palmed the door control, Rush following as she went inside.

Suddenly he realised that he’d been talking like there was a very real possibility of getting back to Earth. And for the first time – he probed at the thought, testing it. He imagined making love to her in the heather, and taking her to a pub, and sharing all the simple joys in life that they were denied up here in space. Of coming home after dark to a snug home with lights on in the window, where they didn’t have to worry about their day-to-day survival. 

No, Rush decided. For the first time, the idea didn’t sound so bad after all. 


End file.
